5 Crease
by Zsadist Cortel
Summary: America randomly shows up on England's doorstep.  And he's staying indefinately. Oh joy.  Rated T for safety.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Crease

Another day began for the personification of Great Britain. England woke up at the same time he always did; 6:45 A.M. On the dot. He would then proceed to stumble to his kitchen, make a pot of tea and some breakfast, and finally drag himself to his bathroom for a quick shower before he dressed. But today something was different. Today England's normal routine had been interrupted by a loud knock at the front door some time between his third cup of tea and the end of breakfast.

There were only so many people who could be calling on him this early, none of whom he really wanted to see before he was completely awake. However, it was rude to leave a person knocking and England was, above all, a gentleman. So, repeating this to himself, England got up and answered the door. To his extreme annoyance (and secret delight) the person on the other side of the door was none other than his former protege, America.

"What are you doing here, America?" England asked in his usual abrasive tone. America didn't answer him. He appeared to be staring at the Brit rather intently. England wasn't sure why until he remembered that he hadn't gotten dressed yet and was currently clothed only in a pair of black boxers and a green button-up pajama shirt that was a bit too long. A blush so red it looked as though England might explode at any moment formed, showing his extreme embarrassment. "Well?" England wanted an answer...and for America to stop staring so intently. England wasn't sure if he liked the look in the younger nation's eyes. It was unnerving the way those azure eyes burned into him, making the island nation feel naked and vulnerable.

"What?" America looked confused. Obviously he'd already forgotten what the question had even been. England took a frustrated breath and tried again.

"Why are you here, America? Did you need something in particular?" Hopefully the idiot hadn't already forgotten why it was he was here. That would be annoying. Curse America and his short attention span both! America looked thoughtful for a bit, an odd sight, then his face lit up.

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" England rolled his eyes. "I'm supposed to ask if I can stay with you for a while cause my boss wants me to learn about responsibility or some stupid shit like that...I forget what all he said cause it was boring and the hero doesn't listen to boring things!" America continued to talk about how very heroic he was while England finally noticed the large duffel bag sitting on the step next to where the American stood. "And then I saved the day! That's why I'M THE HERO!" England was snapped back to reality as America finished his rant. "So, is it okay for me to stay here for a while?" The azure eyed man looked so handsome with that sheepish grin on his face and the hopeful look in his eyes that England didn't even realize he had nodded until America was dragging him back inside the house and complaining about the food England had out. "Geeze, Iggy! You're gonna kill yourself eating this stuff! It's more burnt than not!"

"My food is delicious you bloody brat! Don't you dare lecture me on food that kills when you eat that disgusting fast food that is so packed with fat and grease it's barely anything else! And another thing-!" America finally found a way to shut the shorter man up. "Wha...? What did you...why did you just...?" England was too stunned to form a coherent sentence. America had kissed him. 'Oh, dear,' Was the only thing England could think. The taller man had the gall to smirk down at him. It didn't make England want to hit him like it usually would though. That smirk made him feel very warm and...and it made him want to kiss the wanker some more. That definitely wasn't good.

"Cause you look really hot right now and it made you shut up!" England gaped up at the North American nation. "Wanna do it again? I know I do." America's expression took on a seductive quality and England couldn't say no. He wanted it to happen again. He wanted a lot of things from America, a kiss probably being the most innocent of the things he wanted. England decided that words were not useful at the moment and instead pulled his former protege down for a heated kiss before leading the taller man upstairs.

In the morning, the guest room sheets were all still as perfectly creased as they had been the morning before. The master bedroom, however, was a different story. Sheets and blankets were tangled and stained, pillows littered the floor, and shredded bits of cloth that had once been clothing lay strewn about the room. In the four months America stayed at England's house, he had to pay to replace England's bed three times. England made sure to return the favor when he next visited the American, of course.

_***The End***_


End file.
